Domesticating Ironhide
by Kyarorin
Summary: Thousands of vorns at war never prepared Ironhide for the rural life.
1. Horsy

Horsy!

–-

"Absolutely not." Ironhide rumbles, staring down at the five year old standing on the porch.

Annabelle shuffles her feet, lips pursing in a manner that disturbingly resembles her mother's. Then two wide, baby blues stare up at him earnestly and she holds out the ratty, stuffed mech-like plush Mikaela had painstakingly made for her some years ago.

"Please, 'Hide? I'll let you sleep with my dolly, he scares off nightmares! Please?"

"No." He's a noted solider of the Autobot Army, for Primus' sake! Not some child's pony– her reaction makes Ironhide shift uneasily.

She's giving him _The Eyes_. He can't stand The Eyes.

With a metallic sigh, the mech kneels down and holds out a hand. "Fine, but you can keep your… dolly. I have my cannons to keep me safe at night."

The beaming smile on Annabelle's face more than makes up for the teasing he's likely to get from the elder Lennoxs later.

–-

I thoroughly blame PukaWirpa over at the LJ comm. tf2007fun for this. – Ky


	2. Formidable

Formidable

–-

Ironhide knew that while the males of the species would not hesitate to kill, it was the females who were far more formidable. No, instead of laying waste to your very existence, they would aim straight for the central processor, threatening to decorate you in bunnies, pink boas, and attach tinsel to your mirrors while promising to play sickeningly cute Disney tunes for a whole month.

If Ironhide needed anymore proof that Lennox was irrevocably I_whipped/I_ by his female, it was now, the captain standing back and giving the mech a sheepish look while his wife stalked forward, weapons in hand.

The mech immediately put the giggling flesh-spawn down, knowing full well that he had no back-up and was being confronted with one of the most dangerous creatures on the planet.

–-

The Lennox Family is Love. – Ky


	3. Jealous

Jealous

–––

If it had been Ironhide tangled up in the laundry lines, the Lennox woman would have been reaming him a new one.

"I'm sorry, ma'am! I really am, my sensors are glitched and I didn't see that toy there-" The voice was low and light, not yet having chosen a gender preference as the mid-frame mech tried to release itself of the laundry, only to get tangled up even more.

"No, no, baby," Sarah replied, practically crooning over the newest mech and gently easing her underthings from the mech's armor. "It's okay, really, it is!"

Ironhide crossed his arms. Bluestreak had barely been on Earth for three days planet-time and _already_ every single female was falling over themselves for the youngling.

There was no way in the pit Ironhide was letting Blue get near Annabelle. None.

–––

For serious, Bluestreak causes even the most child-free of women to want to break out the blankets and cookies. Sarah never stood a chance. -Ky


	4. Food Network

Food Network

–-

Sarah Lennox isn't quite sure what to make of Ironhide's sudden, and newest obsession with Earth culture.

"You humans put the strangest things in your mouths." He rumbles, sitting near the back porch, legs and arms crossed as he contemplates the big screen TV.

She looks at the mech, the TV, her laundry, and then to her baby girl determinedly chewing on a corner of the Autobot's toe. Sarah's given up on trying to keep Annabelle from spitting, vomiting, or otherwise lubricating on Ironhide, and Ironhide's long given up being irritated with it.

Her eyes narrow, and he gives her a one shouldered shrug as some show host babbles on about monkey's eyes soup and calf brain tacos. "I'm just sayin'."

Sarah aptly decides not to say anything.

–-

I have no idea what spawned this, but the idea of Annabelle gnawing on 'Hide's toe was just too amusing.


	5. Gender Confused

Gender Confused

–––

"But you're a guy," the teenaged Annabelle says after a moment, staring up at him.

"Our species has no gender dimorphism." Ironhide replies again.

"But you're a _guy_."

He stares at her, right optic shutter catching like it normally does– Ratchet still offers to fix it, but 'Hide has a feeling the medic doesn't really want to. "I _chose_ the male pronoun because I thought it suited me best– the original contact crew all did for their own reasons." Mostly political, but that was beside the point. 'Hide figures a female Prime wouldn't make the bureaucrats listen to them anymore than they do now.

Annabelle's face gets that perturbed expression he's seen so many times on her mother. "So you could have decided to be a girl?"

It's very simple to change the pitch and tone of your vocalizer. Very simple– and Ironhide has been on Earth long enough to know that he respects females and that humans _still_ have many hang-ups over body proportions that they'd find 'her' very unsettling.

So he smirks, tilts his head, and speaks with a husky feminine alto. "Yes, I could very well have."

Annabelle twitches and covers her mouth to repress a chortle, and both of them watch her father curse vehemently as he nearly falls off the ladder Ironhide has been keeping steady the whole time.

His vocals switch back to their default as he places Will back were he belongs. There's a moment of silence before Annabelle speaks up again.

"So does that mean you're all gay?"

–––-

As much as I love femmes…

Think about it– they're robotic, why would they need a physical gender? It's a biological convention for the sake of reproduction (they had the All Spark for that), and even _then_ the human concept of male/female is not absolute.

(I adore IDW Arcee, though Furman's "_Now that I'm a woman_ – RAAAAAAGE" thing still confuses me.)

-Ky


	6. Potty Mouth

Potty Mouth

–––-

For a human it's been just over a decade– for Ironhide, the vorn has barely begun.

It shocks him still, to see Anna suddenly walking about, talking on a cell phone, trying and being denied the right to wear the latest fashions (12 years olds, in _that?_), but what shocks him the most are the things that come out of her mouth.

"Wha- You pit-spawned slag-sucker, I'm gonna frag you for that!" He sees the young boy she's playing against twist and lean away in confusion. The boy knows she's said something naughty, but he's not sure what and this distraction causes his character to die horrifically. Anna crows triumphantly.

There's a knock on his window a few seconds later, and two elder Lennox's eyeing him reprovingly.

"Slag-it-all, I'm not responsible for her vocabulary."

–––

Cybertronian curses are far too much fun to yell when you're stuck in traffic. ROAD RAGE WHOO

-Ky


	7. Autobotus Interruptus

Autobotus Interruptus

WARNING: Alludes to two consensual adults doing things that lovers do. And perverted trucks.

–-

Will's home, he's _finally_ home after going back to that hell-hole of a place called Qatar searching for Scorponok and– who cares if the mission as a success or not? He's _home_, he's here and she's leaning back in a chair, arched and panting as Will makes up for every moment he's been absent from home, from Anna, from _her_.

Every tender touch, every soft kiss and caress pulls a breathy sound from her throat, her eyes closed in ecstasy. Breath hitching, Sarah opens her eyes and reaches down to stroke her husband's hair, unfocused and adoring. Her needy moan suddenly turns into a squeal of horror, making Will pause.

"Babe?" He asks, one eyebrow raised in the pale blue light, eyeing Sarah who is now covering herself with her hands.

His wife slowly points to the window, and the Army Captain turns. Their resident alien watches them for a moment, his own expression mimicking Will's. "You've done it before," the mech says in slight confusion. "That is _not_ how you procreate."

Her husband, Sarah's dear, dear husband takes a flying nude leap towards the window. "You'd better not be recording!" He roars, and the mech shrugs.

"Ratchet asked."

Sarah promptly tries to disappear into a black hole right then and there.

–––

Ficlet brought to you by insomnia and not enough alcohol. (I'm not dead, honest, just sorta out of the fandom.) - Ky


	8. Man Time

Man Time

–-

"You're not going to get us out," Will calls out the barely open window, wryly.

Ironhide, liberally spattered with mud, chunks of grass, and possibly a small rodent or two, echoes the sentiment, his half submerged form giving a mechanical snort of contempt. "Of course he won't," the mech growls through the speakers, "He's driving a _Ford_."

Epps just revs his truck's engine, grinning. "Yeah? Everyone knows the best spot for a Jimmy is the side of the road."

Hide makes another attempt of freeing himself from the thick muck, tires slipping uselessly in the watery sediment. He'd transform, but that means letting Will out, and that means opening the window more, and _that_ means getting mud all inside him. And then a first class trip to Ratchet.

If he didn't have to call the cranky medic out here to tow him first.

Regardless of their doubts, the Air Force Sergeant wades into the water, attaching the cable after a few fumbling attempts. Ironhide 'watches' this from his spatial sensors, chuffing at the dark skinned human. "You realize, that I am a few tonnes heavier than your normal truck."

The human just makes a noncommittal sound, sloshing back through the puddle and into his already soaked truck.

When he guns the engine, Ironhide can't help but roar in laughter as the Ford bounces back a couple of feet. At least, until he's jerked forward and free of the puddle.

"Well," Will says, stunned. "Shit."

--

This drabble was brought to you by my co-workers. Who are very much manly men and love to get their trucks dirty. And also have a Ford/GMC rivalry.

Oh, my. TWO DAYS IN A ROW. - Ky


	9. Girl Talk

Girl Talk

Tags: Mentions of Bee/Sam/Mikaela.

* * *

Simmons lets out a yelp and limps away, yelling, "That was my ass, damnit!"

Sarah smiles viciously, triumphant, lying prone inside a small hollow inside the tower of scrap metal and cars, her weapon trained on the most likely location someone would appear from. She would reply, but that would give her position away, and she isn't giving the enemy team any chances.

There's a soft scrape behind her, and the woman rolls over raising her foot- hand-to-hand is allowed in this little exercise- and pauses when she hears a startled whisper of "Hide's Tramp Stamp!"

Password said, she lowers her weapon, looking at the wide eyes behind the dark face paint. "Huah, Mikaela." Sarah murmurs with a grin, noting that the young woman looks a little strained about almost getting kicked in the stomach.

"You're a Marine?"

She rolls back over, leaving enough room for Mikaela to scoot in beside her. "No, Air Force. Hoo_rah_'s Marine," Sarah responds, calmly looking through her weapon's scope. "Ex-sniper, retired to have Anna."

"Oh." Mikaela says, sounding thoughtful.

Sarah would ask what she's doing here instead of going after her boyfriend but her husband has just come into view, thinking he's being sneaky, rolling from one tower of random junk to the next, getting closer and closer to their flag.

Exhale, pause, fire.

Will yelps, bright yellow blooming on his left shoulder. He leaves the field, cursing snipers and ex-sniper wives.

"Cover my six, would you?"

"What?" The girl sounds confused, and it takes a moment for Sarah to remember that she isn't military.

"My rear, make sure no one sneaks up on me like you did."

There's shifting and Sarah feels something bump against her feet for a moment. And as soon as the silence settles, the girl starts fidgeting, coughing, and muttering. Forget Sam, his girlfriend is just as bad if not worse.

"Talk," she orders in her best TI voice.

She can hear the girl shrink in on herself and mumble, and Sarah growls, firing as Epps comes into view. She curses mutely when he manages to escape back behind cover, unmarked. "Gonna have to move the base," she mutters, her enemies aren't stupid- they've probably noticed their comrades' demises in the area early on.

Mikaela takes a breath, but Sarah interrupts her. "Something's bugging you, and it could compromise our team's success."

She gets the impression that the younger woman is boring holes into the back of her head. "It's nothing, really."

"Uh-huh," she says, motioning for the girl to move and crawling out after her. "And you sought me out instead of making your boyfriend look like an impressionist painting, why?"

Mikaela makes a hesitant sound, expertly diving behind a slab of concrete and ducking into the trench that leads to their base, Sarah following quickly. "It's just- Oh! I don't even know how to ask!"

"Just spit it out," Sarah says wryly, grabbing their 'flag', a pink leopard print bikini bottom, gracefully borrowed from one of their other teammates, Diana. Mikaela leads the way, low crawling out through the tunnel and pausing just before the exit to check for enemies.

Sarah can't hear anything, but the girl's younger ears might pick up something her years of dealing with high powered rifles might not. From the way Mikaela shimmies out, they're in the clear for now.

"I- Sam, he and- Well." Oh, _boy_ problems.

Sarah smiles warmly, she remembers when she was like that with Will. _Is he the right one? Will we last? Does he love me?_ All her answers have been 'Yes' so far, and it's sweet to think that the younger woman was getting serious about Sam.

They're interrupted by gunfire for a while, Epps rallying his ragged troops to get back at the two women who'd reduced their numbers considerably. Their impasse is broken when Nina, Carla, and Rachel barrel in from behind like big damn heroes, breaking the Chief's hasty defense. Rachel and Nina run off after them as they make a strategic retreat, while Carla stays behind to guard them as they set up their new base.

They're both quiet for most of the set up before Mikaela finally rattles out something that makes her go, "I'm sorry?"

The girl's face is bright red behind the dark paint, she knows it. "I was wondering if Ironhide was interested in, ah, joining in like Bee is?"

"…Joining in." Sarah says slowly, carefully. This… This could definitely cost their team the lead if she's sitting there trying to pick her brain up from around her ankles in the hopes that Mikaela isn't alluding to what she thinks she is. "Joining in, as in sex?"

The girl coughs, and nods. "Um. Yes."

At least it sounds quiet on their section of the field for now, though it's loud where Nina is allowed to play with her modified paint-guns, and if there's anyone Sarah doesn't want to go up against it's the woman who can match Wheeljack for sheer genius and penchant for explosions.

Sarah rubs a hand up her face and through her hair, not caring if there's paint transfer. "Mikaela. Honey. You and Sam are our U.S. cultural liaisons to the Autobots, and you two are wonderful and great and have really helped keep us from screwing this up- but I really don't think that's part of your job."

The brunette seems to deflate a little, "Oh. So he doesn't, huh?"

"No," Sarah says in what she hopes is a mild tone, it sounds like all three of them are comfortable with the idea and she doesn't want the young girl to think that there's something wrong with their arrangement. Interspecies relationships aren't something she considers taboo, but the sheer _size_ difference is what's tripping her up, so she just scans the area for a good sniping spot just to give herself some time to think. Their holomatter forms aside, she has no idea how that would work, and it's that perverse, imaginative part of her that makes her ask. "Is it good, at least?"

From the low, sultry chuckle she receives, yes, yes it is.

* * *

Uh oh, Will. 'Hide. Mikaela just gave Sarah _ideas_. It's probably like having the world's biggest vibrator.

Also, , stop eating my page breaks!

-Ky


	10. Garden

Garden

* * *

"Don't put your foot down," Ironhide's tone is hard to read, but nevertheless, Optimus Prime freezes as he is, one foot raised to step towards his weapons specialist.

He raises in one brow plate, curious; the Lennoxes have kindly offered to hold a 'Welcoming Party' for the incoming Autobots on their remote farm, and Prime is there to help with preparations. His current Second shifts, trying to look mild, and unaffected, but there's a strange stiffness to his posture. "Ironhide?"

"You almost stepped on Will's tomatoes." Again, Ironhide is trying to sound calm, but Optimus knows his mechs. Unbidden, humor wells up inside him, and he moves back, looking down at the carefully cultivated ground as Ironhide stiffly limps past him. "Ratchet with you?"

"Yes, he's by the barn." Optimus says, pretending to study the small garden instead of the trowel and rake stuck in the other mech's joints as he walks carefully by.

* * *

Judy and Will should team up.


	11. Kitties, Everywhere

Kitties, Everywhere

* * *

He hadn't even shut the car door before three year old Anna waddled out of the house, squealing, "Daddy! Daddy! Kitties!" And his heart leapt into his throat, because there was a fucking _lion_ ambling out right behind her and what little he remembered of nature was 'small thing running equals prey' and he bolted forward, ready to defend his little girl against a fucking _lion_.

That was when a few other things made themselves clear in his mind, there were cats of all shapes and sizes and ambiguous domesticity in the windows, on the porch, there was a cheetah on his roof and Sarah was standing in the window with a small house cat with a camera grinning like a loon.

He was crouched over his squealing daughter who was trying to make a beeline right back to that fucking lion who was giving him this smuggest look he had ever seen on a cat before. "Ironhide." He breathed out slowly, promising retribution.

The lion just rumbled and fragmented into pixels and faded out of sight, as did nearly every other cat.

* * *

So I asked my BFF4evaandeva for a prompt, and the title is what she gave me. Not sure if this is she what she had in mind. I like giving Will heart attacks apparently.


	12. Shut Up and Color

Shut Up and Color

RoTF Compliant? No. DoTM compliant? Hahaha, _no_. Does take NEST from RoTF, however.

* * *

"General Lennox," Ironhide said gravely, looking down at his commander, head cocked to the side. "I believe it would be best to have the tea table inside the base perimeter."

General Annabelle Lennox of the Fifth Princess Battalion looked up, and up, at her largest soldier currently shanghaied into Operation Best Birthday Ever and scowled. "No. It needs to go by the tree."

"The tree is part of the water-gun range," he countered evenly, making the bedazzled soon-to-be-six year old frown even more. "It would be tactically unsound to have your tea party there, when the… big kids are playing. Your scones would get wet."

Soldiers were supposed to _listen_, darn it, not argue with their commanders! Crossing her chiffon clad arms and stomping her booted foot, General Princess Annabelle looked over the field next to their house that would soon be filled with other NEST children and their families for her birthday, complete with bouncy castle and robotic-pony rides, the herd's metallic hides gleaming in the sun as one whickered softly at her.

There, closest to the house, was the food and present table adjacent to it was the small paddock Ratchet had put together, along with the ponies, chairs set up along the porch for the adults to sit and watch while she and her friends waged war with the icky boys who she had to invite as well.

"It's prettier by the tree," she insisted, never mind that she had her Daddy setting up the water-gun range for Aunt Mikaela and Uncle Sam and Uncle Bobby; Mommy said the big kids would get bored because they were too big to ride the ponies. It was her duty, as General and Head Princess, to ensure all Daddy's visiting soldiers are well cared for and entertained as well as her own.

She would have a word with Ratchet after the party, and tell him not to be so thoughtless- like a good leader, like her Daddy.

Ironhide's right optic shutter caught briefly, before he blinked at her, holding the tea table in one hand and rumbled slightly. "Are you quite sure, General?"

Of course she was, but Ironhide seemed unable to see her grand plan, where the tea party would be by the tree, in the shade and where it would be prettiest, streamers hanging from its branches while she and Tina and Hillary and Jessie and the other girls could snub their noses at the stupid boys who would refuse their treatises and armistice-whatsits, and then they could beat them up later with the foam sticks. And maybe water-guns. Daddy's soldiers were on Daddy's side, and she's his Princess, so she should be able to order them around too, right? She could order them away from the tea table well until she's ready.

Only Ironhide wasn't listening and was being a butt and there was only one thing she knew of that got Ironhide and Daddy to listen, especially when Mommy got mad about the cannon holes in the ground and they started protesting about vermin and broken cattle legs.

Taking a deep breath, General Princess Annabelle pointed at the tree, near where her father was setting up a pillar of tires. "Soldier!" She bellowed, in her lowest voice, nearly making herself cough. Annabelle didn't notice her father stop to watch.

Emphasizing her next command with a stomp of the foot, Annabelle yelled out the secret phrase Mommy used whenever they were being butts. "Shut up and color!"

The black mech before her straightened, frame rattling like it did when he thought something was funny but knew he shouldn't laugh as he saluted, drawling out a low "Yes, m'am," before ambling over to put the tea table down right where she wanted it.

Nodding to herself, Annabelle smiled, looking over at her Mommy, who had been setting up the buffet, with the strangest expression on her face. Shrugging, the little girl got back to what was important: Sparkly boa placement and bubble machines.

* * *

"She's definitely your daughter," Will said later, watching his little princess rip into a pack of boys with the foam joust, her pink dressed stained with mud and grass, ripped by her constant tripping in her mini-combat boots. Followed by Sam (in a tiara), Mikaela, Epps, and a gaggle of other NEST girls, dressed to the nines in various sparkly accoutrements, Annabelle led her Princess Militia after the horrendously outnumbered boys her age.

Ironhide was still by the tea table, sparkly blue boas wrapped around his wrists and sitting there, all but daring the older guests and Autobots to comment.

"You didn't beat up your guests when you were that age?" Sarah said innocently, swigging her beer. That was when Will remembered he didn't exactly marry her because she was a _proper_ lady.

* * *

Would you want to point out to the heavily armed mech that he looks silly with sparkly blue feather boa bracelets?


End file.
